


Three Times He Could've Told Her

by grumkin



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Mates, Rhys POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumkin/pseuds/grumkin
Summary: Rhysand had had plenty of chances to tell Feyre. Some of them could have changed the way things played out in the successive events. These are some of the times that could have been.SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't read ACOMAF, then you might want to get to that first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: These are strictly SJM's characters that I'm playing around with. I do not own them or anything. 
> 
> I always found it odd that Rhys and Feyre's bargain led to them sharing thoughts, but in my mind, it should've been their mating bond all along. That's sort of the assumption that I'm going with, anyway. I'm taking some (read: a lot of) creative liberties here, so don't mind me. If you're strictly cannon, you may not want to continue. 
> 
> This begins towards the end of ACOTAR, after Feyre is brought back to life and she sees Rhys one last time.

I should've winnowed the moment Feyre took her first breath in her fae body. 

The moment I could feel the faint flicker at the other end of the bond flair into a resilient flame. 

I knew then that she was going to be fine. Now that Amarantha was dead. 

Darkness slithered out of me, thunderous -  _murderous_  - at the mere thought of her. I should've been the one to make the killing blow. 

Cauldron could boil her till eternity and it wouldn't be enough. 

Feyre had fought so hard, even when her body had been so human, so utterly breakable. When her courage, fathomless though it was, had been no match for the red-haired witch's sadistic thirst. 

_Of all the times for Tamlin to grow a pair._

My lip curled in distaste, for as much animosity as I held for him, there was also a grudging gratitude now for finally stepping up and killing Amarantha.

He still didn't deserve Feyre, though. She was sublime in her fury, fierce in her love. Her mortal body had held so much more fortitude that his immortal body could ever hope to handle. He couldn't come close to matching her intensity. She put him above all else and he couldn't even put her above his pride.

I could feel the talons forming, my inner beast taking control. I took a deep, calming breath, reminding myself that it was over. She was safe now. I tugged on the bond, as if to assure myself and felt her slumber slip away as consciousness beckoned.

_She's alright. She's alive. She will heal._

But will she be happy with Tamlin? Or will she feel this tether between us like a loose thread in the otherwise immaculate tapestry of her life. 

I felt her before I could see her. She was still a little sleepy and stumbled over her feet a few times. Her body had changed and it would take some getting used to. Fortunately, she had time. 

But how much time before Hybern came after her? Before the Attor took his revenge? I still can't believe I let that Cauldron damned being flee, but I was too worried about Feyre at the time. 

Her pale skin wasn't the only indication that she hadn't seen the sun in a very long time. She shielded her face from the sun, surprise rippling across the bond, as she took in the scenic vista before her. 

Of course, she hadn't expected to even see the light of the day again when she'd struck the deal with Amarantha. 

I could only stare at her, though. Where human Feyre was beautiful, as High Fae, she was resplendent. It wasn't just the ears. The way her skin had a faint glow to it that hinted at the magical power she now possessed. The way her body, skinny though it had become, looked lithe and graceful. Her limbs were leaner now, stronger. A strength that she hadn't tested yet and I doubt she's even aware of its existence right now.

Oh, the powers she would have at her disposal. 

_She_  will take care of herself. She doesn't need Tamlin or me for that. 

"What are you still doing here?"

Her words betray her weariness.

_She's distracted by my wings._  It's all I can do to hide my smirk just imagining her response to my thought.

“Just to say good-bye. Before your beloved whisks you away forever.”

“Not forever,” There was the fire I knew so well. “Don’t you get a week every month?” 

She held out her hand, as if I needed a reminder of all that she'd gone through and my part in it. I frowned at the black swirls intently, hesitating. 

My bargain with her was originally intended to get back at Tamlin. To get a rise out of him so that he'd actually do something effective for once. Fucking coward that he was, he hadn't taken the bait. I'd marked his supposed love. I'd toyed with her in front of him. For all he knew, I could have been forcing myself on her.

_And. He. Had. Done. Nothing._

As much as I didn't understand the dynamics of their relationship, I couldn't even begin to explain my own attraction to her. 

At least that's what I thought it was. But after last night, I couldn't deny my love for her. And as our gazes met, questions swirling in her blue-grey eyes, it hit me suddenly with the force of a crushing blow, straight to the heart. 

For the first time since I'd known her, she was looking at me like I was worth something. Like I wasn't the most vile creature that she'd ever encountered. Like she could see beneath the facade that I'd constructed for the world to see.

In that moment, I recognized her soul as the counterpart to my own. The other half of me that I had been unconsciously searching for all of my existence. A rare gift that the Cauldron saw fit to only bless the luckiest of us with. She was the wind to my flight; I was the darkness, she was the light. 

She was my mate. And she needed to know. She's not going to like it - I doubt she'll even be able to process the gravity of it right now, as overwhelmed as she is by recent events. 

"Bargains in Prythian are like contracts written in blood - you cannot renege on them without forfeiting your life." An evil smirk lifted one corner of my mouth, "Of course, at the Night Court, we add insult to injury by marking them with tattoos so that no one forgets the debt which demands payment."

"Oh, spare me the lesson, High Lord", she all but spat at me, her hands tight balls of fury at her sides. "I know what I owe you and I will endure whatever you throw my way. Anything you do cannot be worse than what I've done to myself. What I-"

She choked, her thoughts shifting to the last trial, when the blue eyes of her victim cursed her as her dagger found purchase in his chest. The blood on her hands.

_All that blood. It should've been mine. It should have been me._

Unable to curb my protective instinct, I closed the distance between us and cupped her face in my hands, the callused pads of my fingers a harsh contrast against the satin of her skin. 

"You did what needed to be done. It was unavoidable." Struggling to breathe, she blinked a few times, trying to stay in the present, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Think of all the lives you've saved. All of Prythian is indebted to you. You've freed us all and Cauldron only knows how many lives you've saved in doing so."

I glimpsed a flash of vulnerability in cerulean depths, before she closed her eyes, "I keep seeing them. I keep thinking..."

_It should've been me._

Feyre didn't finish her sentence out loud and thank the Cauldron for that because I don't know what I would do if she had vocalized it.

Her agony was palpable, crawling through my veins like a disease. She was so wracked with her guilt that she didn't even realize that she was leaning on me - both physically and emotionally. 

 _She isn't thinking straight,_ I told myself. She'd be horrified when she realized what she was doing. As if in-sync with my thoughts, her back stiffened and she pulled away abruptly, her eyes wary.

I sighed telling myself that it was a good thing she put some distance between us. 

_She's going to need it, with what I'm about to tell her._

"Feyre", I held out a hand, asking - not taking. She hesitated before putting her tattooed hand in mine. I examined the dark lines, "I will let you off the hook. Free of the bargain."

Her tone was colored with disbelief, "You will?"

"I can let you walk away without the bargain, Feyre. But powerful as I am, even I cannot break my bond with you." 

I couldn't help but smile at the befuddled look on her face, "There is a bond far, far ancient and more powerful than any other. It's rare, this bond, but a lot of our kind have found it..." 

She gasped as she no doubt felt the receding magic binding her to the bargain, her eyes fixated on her skin where the mark was beginning to fade away.

"It's the bond of a mutual awareness - you will always feel this presence, someone on the other end. I've heard that the so-called lesser fae can share their feelings through it, but the High fae usually share more than that. It could be that they share their powers somehow - it manifests differently for everyone"

I let go of her now pristine hand, void of any evidence of our bargain.

"What-" She examined her skin, a slight furrow between her brows, "what kind of bond?"

"When the Cauldron recognizes two beings as equals - in terms of the power they wield, or maybe in terms of just how they fit together." I laughed humorlessly, "Even I don't know how it works. It's like yin to yang. Black to white. Female to male. My soul recognizes yours as its ideal match."

She was flabbergasted, her mouth gaping like she wanted to say something but couldn't come up with any concrete words.

I grinned wryly, "Never thought I'd see the day you were wordless."

I couldn't read her. It was like her mind was behind a veil. I could sense her confusion and panic. 

"Prick!" Quick as lightening she lashed out, smacking me in the chest, "You think this is funny? Mates? You and I? Cauldron, boil me!"

When I didn't laugh as she expected me to, she worried her bottom lip, her mind churning once again.

"Did you not feel the tug, Feyre?"

Her eyes widened, "But that was the bargain, wasn't it?"

"Bargains become a string in the tapestry of your life. They remain there, quite innocuously, until the payment is to be made. But bargains do not interweave the lives of the two parties who entered it. They do not allow you to communicate like we did."

 _Like we do._ I said into her mind.

I expected her vehement denial. I expected her ridicule. But Feyre was ever so insightful, and she was still processing. I was able to intermittently look into her mind - as if with immortality, she'd developed a protective shell around it but didn't know how to use it yet. I could see flashes of me trying to save her from Amarantha. I could feel her, close to death, hanging on by a thread that tethered her to this world.

To me.

"Rhys, I-" She started, agitated with herself or with me I couldn't quite tell.

"It's alright, Feyre. It just means that the Cauldron has damned us both to be aware of each other for the rest of our lives. Maybe it will get nullified if you and Tamlin have your mating blessed by a priestess. Who knows?" 

The words left a bitter taste in my mouth but I could see her rising uncertainty and the last thing I wanted was to cause her any more pain.

I flapped my wings hovering over her, committing her features to my memory one last time.

"Good bye, Feyre Archeron." I said, trying and failing to keep my tone casual. "You know where to find me if you ever need me."

She stepped forward even as she snorted, her eyes scanning my face, my wings and back, "As if."

I couldn't help the smile that took over my face then.

And I fell hard before soaring high.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set right after the steamy scene at the Night Court in ACOMAF.

Being in the Night Court had always set my teeth on edge. Those psychophantic hypocrites had never accepted me or my decisions and I had never seen eye to eye with the way they treated females, especially the ones closest to me.

My mother, Mor. And now, Feyre had joined the ranks.

 _What was I even thinking, bringing her here?_ I asked myself yet again. I knew something like this was going to happen. And then I had thought of that preposterous idea, and she'd consented to it. I had made her dress like that. Had touched her so intimately... and I couldn't even focus on the pleasure now - hers or mine - as one word from Keir had obliterated the illusion.

_Whore._

That was me, the High Lord of the Night Court, also known for his stud services to vile females.

I deserved that title. Owned it. Wore it proudly even, like a badge of honor. I had lived through that. I had survived that.

But no one, not a single soul on either side of the wall had the right to call Feyre that.

And I would rip them apart with my bare hands if they so much as insinuated anything along those lines.

I had relished breaking Keir's bones, but I had wanted to kill him. Slow and torturous. Nothing less than what he deserved. Blood thirst had hit me so hard that it took all of my mental faculties to concentrate on not taking his life. I had never felt this way before, not even when Tamlin's family had brutalized and butchered mine. Oh, I'd felt the murderous rage, but the urge was nowhere near as strong, then. This was primordial; this need to protect my mate.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough, and when the time came, I took Feyre's hand and winnowed, knowing Mor would take Cassian and Az with her. I didn't have a particular destination in mind. I just knew I had to apologize to her and I wouldn't get to do that if we went straight home.

_Velaris is not my home._

That's what she'd said once. I idly wondered if she had changed her mind since, but I realized that was just wishful thinking on my part.

As if she could want anything to do with me, now that she'd seen the ruthless, sadistic bastard that I could be. Now that she'd been reminded of all the despicable things that I had done Under the Mountain.

Her flimsy excuse of a dress fluttered as the wind whipped around us, showing me glimpses of private skin I had no right seeing. I averted my gaze, looking at the placid lake that was a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside me.

"I'm sorry," I rasped, cursing myself for sounding so weak.

"What do you possibly have to be sorry for?" She said, her tone tinged with confusion that was echoed through the bond.

“I shouldn’t have let you go. Let you see that part of us. Of me.”

“I’m fine.” She assured me, and I wanted to look into her fathomless blue-gray eyes and make sure she really did feel that way, but I was too afraid with what I might find there. “We knew what tonight would require of us. Please—please don’t start … protecting me. Not like that.”

I shuddered remembering her vacant expression when she'd been at the Spring Court and then, as if that comparison wasn't punishment enough, an image slipped down the bond, a chaotic mess of a room with Feyre cowering on the floor.

My blood boiled, “I will never— _never_ lock you up, force you to stay behind. But when he threatened you tonight, when he called you … ”

I couldn't bring myself to finish that sentence, so I swallowed and tried again, “It’s hard to shut down my instincts.”

Feyre blinked, once, twice, her frown getting more and more pronounced, "What does that even mean? If your instinct had been to mist Mor's father, you would've done it?"

"That would have been too quick and painless."

"I'm serious, Rhys."

"So am I, Feyre," I met her gaze then, my voice low and vicious, “I will kill anyone who threatens my mate. I will kill them, and take a damn long time doing it. Go ahead. Hate me—despise me for it.”

“I could never – wait – _what?_ ”

Her hair rippled around her shocked face, eyes impossibly wide. It took me a few seconds to catch up, as the words I'd just uttered registered with me. 

_I will kill anyone who threatens my mate._

I cursed myself for slipping up. I'd been so careful around her.

Everyone knew, or at least suspected. I’d spilled my guts out to Mor and Amren had recognized her just by the scent. And though the two hadn’t said anything, my brothers knew me too well not to know. Feyre was the only one who had no idea and I wasn't sure when I should tell her. How does one even go about broaching this topic? In all the tales, the grand love stories in the history of Prythian, and even with my parents, there was only “Their eyes met and they just knew”.

Just like that.

Oh, there were melodramatic declarations of absolute devotion, don’t get me wrong, but there has never been any parallel to my situation. Not that I knew of, at any rate.

“What did you just say?”

“That I will kill anyone-”

“Don’t be dense.” Feyre cut me off, anger glinting in her eyes, “You know what I mean.”

“Let’s go home,” I reached out to her and she stepped back.

It felt like a rejection and damn it, that hurt.

“Feyre,” I choked.

“How do you even-” she shook her head, “What made you say that?”

“That you’re my mate?” I laughed humorlessly, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rather spectacularly failing at controlling my actions tonight.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” she ran a hand through her hair, uncertainty clouding her words. “I can’t be- You’re-”

“It doesn’t have to make sense. In fact, more often than not, it doesn’t.” I moved closer to her then, because I wanted – needed to touch her. I lifted her chin until she met my gaze, “But you can’t say that you and I don’t make sense.”

Her thoughts were a maelstrom – processing the last few months in a new light – but even though her guard was down, I didn’t want to intrude on her privacy and so I waited patiently for her to voice her concerns.

“But you’re the High Lord of the Night Court, and I’m- I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Her vulnerability gutted me and I smoothed the wrinkle between her brows, “You’re Feyre, the High Fae who was Made, with a lethal combination of powers that no one has ever possessed. But that doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.”

I ran a finger lightly up her arm, trying to ignore the goosebumps that rose in my wake.

“You’re brave enough to stand up against what’s wrong, even when the odds aren’t favorable.”

The pad of my thumb was rough against her cheek, as I caressed it.

“You’re smart and compassionate, to have the wherewithal to teach yourself to hunt and bring food to the table for a family that didn’t deserve it.

I placed her hand against my hammering heart, “You are still human here, Feyre, and that makes you so rare and precious.”

I planted my lips on her forehead, and I felt an uncharacteristic blush warm her face. 

“You’ve only known me for a fraction of my life and yet you know me as well as any of our friends. _You_ are my best friend.”

“Rhys,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“By the Cauldron, you are the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen.” I framed her face with my hands, “And I’m utterly, hopelessly in love with you. I think I’ll die if you ever leave me.”

A corner of my mouth quirked up as she snorted, “Okay, that’s _definitely_ not true, but it won’t be much of a life without you.”

“But you can love someone and not be their mate?”

My response was a long time coming because I had to swallow the jealousy that rose in me at the mere thought of the High Lord of the Spring Court.

“That _is_ possible. But the mating bond is much more… visceral. It’s an inextricable part of your being. It’s like gravity,” My hand pressed against the exposed skin of her back, and as if to prove my point, her arms wrapped around my neck involuntarily, “An undeniable attraction.”

I could feel her chest rising and falling against mine quickly, as I bent down to trail kisses up her jaw, languid and sensual, before she jerked back abruptly. 

“We should go home.”

I stepped away, turning around to hide my emotions, as I tried in vain to quiet the raging storm in my head.

_It was too early._

_She wasn’t ready yet._

_I’ve lost her now._

_Why would someone like her want to be with a mess like me?_

Small fingers curled around mine, tugging. When I didn’t react, she closed the distance between us and said into my ear, “I _really_ want to fuck you and it’s fucking freezing out here.” And then she pulled back, smiling like the temptress she was. “We wouldn’t want you to have any problems with your, uh, _wingspan_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, you guys! And the Kudos! And the lovely comments!
> 
> This one is a little, ahem, not safe for work, as the kids call it.
> 
> It's set after Starfall, when Feyre waits for Rhys to come to her.

 

I hovered uncertainly outside her bedroom. 

Even though she'd apologized for her words, and rationally, I could see where she was coming from, they still resonated in my head over and over again, haunting me. 

_"Because what if you did let someone in? And what if they saw everything, and still walked away? Who could blame them—who would want to bother with that sort of mess?_ "

Ever the huntress, her aim had been true yet again. It was as if she'd turned me inside out and found nothing of value, throwing all my inadequacies in my face.

She had been right, of course. I  _was_  being a coward. But when the alternative was losing her, I think I'd rather just have her in my forever -- in any capacity -- than not at all. She'd seen too much, knew too well what I was capable of. She could never want me.

_Why'd you stop?_

I groaned softly, my head falling against her door with a muted thud.

I'd thought my desire for physical intimacy had died with all that Amarantha had done - for all those years, all those endless nights. I couldn't fathom the thought of touching someone, fearing the flashbacks that would undoubtedly plague me. So I shied away, even when I'd had plenty of options - rejected hordes of females who had subtly hinted, flirtatiously suggested, or brazenly wanted.

Until that night. Sweet Cauldron, that night... It had felt like she'd wanted me. Like she was as much mine as I was hers. She'd welcomed my touch, opening up to me, allowing my hands to roam freely. Her body had responded to my ministrations beautifully, moving against me. And I'd almost lost my composure then and there. I would have seated her on the throne like the queen she was, knelt in front of her and parted her legs, burying my face in-

"Come to me, Rhys."

Her murmur may as well have been a siren call, for the way I reacted. My spine lengthened and unbidden, my hand pushed the door open.

I had seen Feyre in her nightclothes before. Once when she'd had a nightmare and I was there to comfort her and the other time, when the roles were reversed.

But this felt different. Surreal, somehow. 

Maybe because of the way we had danced tonight, our eyes saying all that had needed to be said. Maybe because I'd just had my hands all over her at the Court of Nightmares, our bodies dancing to an ancient rhythm. Things had definitely shifted between us over the last few nights and I wasn't sure we could go back.

She was lying supine on the massive bed, the sheets tangled around her waist. Her skin shone blue in the moonlight, graceful and ethereal. Hair like fire fanned across her pillow, dark as night in the shadows. Her chest rose and fell evenly, her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her shift. 

"Rhys," she breathed, and if her tone didn't hold enough of an invitation, the hand that reached out toward me spoke volumes.

Of their own accord, my legs ate up the distance between us, answering my mate's call.

My mate. My  _mate_.  _My_  mate.

She took my hand and placed it on her breast. I could feel her heart hammering in tandem with mine as I gently stroked the taught peak over the silk, once, twice, thrice, before pinching it. She squirmed, tugging on my hand now. Restless. Impatient.

Her legs kicked off the sheets covering her and I climbed onto the bed, between her legs where her skin was barely covered with lace. I cupped her ass and pulled her closer, noting with satisfaction as her night gown rode up. I bent down to lick languid circles around her belly button and she bucked, trying to find the friction her body was demanding.

With a hand on her abdomen, I pinned her to the bed as I explored her skin with my mouth, nipping and sucking over the flat expanse of her stomach, as I slowly, inexorably made my way upwards. 

"Rhysand," she whimpered, her fingers tugging at my hair punishingly.

"What do you want, darling?" I asked, my nose skimming the underside of her breast, as I nudged the cloth farther up until it was bunched under her arms. She held her shoulders up and I took off the offending garment entirely.

 I lent back, sitting on my haunches, because I had to see her. The vision she made, moonlight gliding along the tantalizing curves of her body. The harsh lines of her shoulder blades against the soft mounds of her breasts, the softly flaring hips giving way to long, lean legs. 

Then she took my hand, holding her down against her navel, and moved it lower until it was between her legs. I cupped her there, letting loose a primal growl at finding the evidence of her arousal. My fingers played with the waistband, my gaze questioning.

_This is it. There will be no going back._

But apparently, Feyre had had enough of my toying with her, because with one swift motion she yanked off the last scrap of fabric covering her. Distracted as I was by the endless stretch of pliant milky skin, a sharp contrast against the unyielding olive of mine, I lurched forward when she pulled me by my tunic, barely managing to keep my weight from crushing her.

A flash of white, a feline grin, and then her mouth was on mine. It was gone just as quickly, before I could react.

"You wanted a re-do," mischief shone in her eyes as she ran a finger along the edges of my wing. 

_I’m wishing I could take back that kiss Under the Mountain._

And if I ever had any hope of holding back, it evaporated just then.

As I looked into her eyes, dark and glittering like the night sky, her smile slowly faded as if she understood what she was to me. As if she knew how important this moment was.

We were so close that even in the absence of light, I could see the freckles at the bridge of her nose. Her breath mingled with mine as I caressed one corner of her mouth with a light kiss. She gasped, her arms tightening around my shoulders, as I treated the other corner with the same tenderness. And then, unable and unwilling to delay any further, we moved as one and our lips met in the middle. It wasn't a fight for domination but an exploration, not the beginning of a conversation but the continuation of one.

I lifted one of her legs around my waist urging her to wrap them both around me but she drew back.

"Why are you so-" she panted, her fists furiously curling into my top.

"So irresistible?" I teased. "So perfect?"

"So. Utterly. Infuriating," Feyre wrenched at it, again and again, managing to tear it down the middle. Her plump luscious mouth dropped with dramatic flair. "Cauldron help him, what is Rhys going to wear now? Oh, I know. Another black shirt."

"Smart ass," I bit her ear playfully and when she arched into me, chest to chest, I was struck with a deep hunger to know every inch of her.  _Immediately_.

 _ **Now** , Rhys_.  _I want you **right now**._  she said through the bond and the intimacy of it, took my breath away. She was naked underneath me, but that almost paled in comparison to the trust she gave me in baring her thoughts to me. I coveted those glimpses into her mind that she chose to share with me, and right then, the sheer urgency to them almost undid me.

 _Your wish is my command_ , I smirked wickedly before throwing her legs over my shoulders and finding her clit with my mouth, even as I plunged a finger deep inside. 

_Fuck. The smell of her. The taste of her._

Her thighs tightened around my face, and though her glorious sounds were muffled, I could sense how close she was through the bond and I took her over the edge with my tongue.

One moment she was coming off the orgasm, breathing heavily, and the next she was pushing me onto my back and taking my cock in her hands.

_Cauldron, boil me._

I flipped our positions right back, manacling her wrists over her head. 

She twisted against me, protesting "Rhys, I want this. I want you."

"Feyre," I started breathlessly, my heart soaring and but my mind cautioning. "If we do this, things won't be the same."

She rolled her eyes, "No kidding. Last I heard there was no way you could un-fuck someone."

_Cauldron, damn me. This is pure torture._

I tried again, "If we do this, I won't be able to let you go."

When her attempts to wriggle out of my grasp were unsuccessful, she huffed, exasperated, "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you can't go back..." 

_To Tamlin._

"Way to kill the mood,  _Rhysand_ ," she grumbled, and I let go of her hands. "And what do you mean that I  _can't_. Not that I would ever want to, but that is my choice.  _Mine_. How can you take that away from me?" 

She was getting increasingly agitated, folding her legs against her chest, her arms anchoring them. I couldn't tell if that was more for some semblance of modesty, or to get away from me. 

I ran my fingers through my outrageously messy hair, "I'm not taking the choice away. I'm giving it to you."

"Well, that's easy," she shrugged, cavalier, "I choose you. Now come here and let me see that impressive wingspan. Unless..." her eyes widened with mock sympathy, "you're not impotent, are you?"

I barked a laugh, pinching the bridge of my nose, "Fuck, Feyre. You will be my undoing."

"I don't know about that but I do know something I'd like to undo," she looked at the still-tented fabric of my pants, and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"You didn't ask why?"

She was still distracted, "Huh?"

"You didn't ask why I wouldn't be able to let you go. I mean I could still try, but I know I would have to come after you then, and it'll mean war."

Her brows furrowed, "What are you going on about?"

"When we fuck, Feyre, our bond will snap into place, and even though you may not have formally accepted the mating, that's exactly what we will be." I caught her gaze, so many emotions flickering in them, "Mates."

Her mouth gaped slightly, as she whispered, "Mates?"

"Mates," I affirmed, then I leaned over and kissed her brow, "Think about it and then tell me whether you still want to go through with it."

And with all the strength that I possess, I walked away from her.


End file.
